A Potion, a Dream
by The Dark Morning Lord
Summary: Hermione slips a potion in McGonagall's drink with unsuspected consequences. T for now, might change later to M.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is loosely based on a concept in RedOrchid's _Love Potion no. 9_, which you can probably find in its entirety on Ashwinder. Also, reviews and critiques are most welcome and appreciated. Enjoy!

Hermione had developed a rather bad habit of biting her fingernails when she was deep in thought. It wasn't that she enjoyed uneven nail sizes or torn cuticles, reddened and sore from her teeth. She just needed to keep her hands busy so her mind could reel over whatever captured her thoughts so intensely. She wasn't even aware she did any such thing. The more mind-power required, the more ferociously her digits worked. Sometimes it was the drum of her thumbs on a table or the twirling of a quill while she was writing one of her longer-than-required essays. Other times it was the swish of a firmly gripped wand, emitting flashes and sparks of different colored lights as she paced her dorm or a vacant corridor. Other times still it was merely sitting, staring off into space while her hands worked to solve one of the Japanese puzzles her parents sent her for Christmas one year. It wasn't uncommon for her to progress through all the stages of her thought pattern, as she was doing today.

It was an unusually warm day for late October, and the grounds of Hogwarts were too humid for frizzy haired girls to spend much time outside. Instead, the brunette sat in the windowsill of an abandoned classroom on the second floor, staring out at the Quidditch pitch and her friends practicing for the opening game of the season. The puzzle in her hand was worked simultaneously with the puzzle in her mind. She had read a couple of weeks ago of a potion one could use to make the object of one's affection dream of one. It was an innocent dream potion, though she had found it in a book in the Restricted Section of the library. Still, she felt uneasy when thinking of using it on someone, let alone a _teacher_.

She reasoned with herself that it wasn't manipulating or controlling like a love potion – this particular concoction only brought to surface deep, hidden feelings the drinker had for the brewer. There _was_ the chance that her plan would fail and said teacher would realize that deep down she hated the insufferable know-it-all.

Outside the window her eyes came into focus on the object of her affection. Minerva McGonagall was walking back from the Quidditch pitch, shaking her head as she made her way back to the castle (_Probably trying to sneak in some advice while the team practiced_, Hermione thought). It's true the professor wasn't beautiful in the sense that models and actors were, and she certainly wasn't "snoggable" according to Lavender's, Parvati's, or any other student's standards for that matter. However, Hermione thought she was positively lovely … like the twirling of a soft dress on a summer afternoon, or the foliage of an Irish forest in the fall, or perhaps more like Hogwarts itself – tall, angular, and intense. No, she liked that she didn't fancy someone who merely looked "hot"; she much preferred her special view and that she could see something so differently than the others.

Hermione had tortured herself with her attraction for the past year and a half. She had grown tired of being so close, being able to smell the perfume her professor wore when she collected papers from class, and not be able to touch her and kiss her. On the last day of term the previous year, she had worked up the courage to hug her Head of House – it was awkward to say the least, but she cherished the tingling sensation left in her arms all the way to King's Cross.

No, her feelings may be inappropriate, silly, and unlikely to be reciprocated, but she couldn't pass on the opportunity at least to allow for _some_ hope to blossom. She was going to do it. With a very fluid motion, the brown haired witch pocketed her puzzle and made off for the Restricted Section.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yes, it took me more than a year to upload chapter 2. I make no promises to stick to any certain time frame in uploading more chapters. However, if I get enough reviews, it might just fuel me enough to continue pumping out chapters. ;)

You should also probably know that this story is set in Hermione's 6th year. This is also AU in that Snape still teaches potions and Slughorn is nowhere to be found. I just can't stand Sluggy. He creeps me out.

Anyways, enjoy!

* * *

Procuring the ingredients for the potion wasn't difficult. She had snuck in and out of the potions cabinet quickly, albeit with greater difficulty than the time in her second year. Snape had increased his wards, but our heroine was a clever witch and soon enervated his defenses enough to gain access. Of course, it helped that even in Advanced Potions one could always count on a student messing up terribly in class. The fog of black and purple smoke concealed her movements, and she was back in her seat before a wheezing Severus Snape cleared the pollution, shouting insults and house point deductions.

She was back in the girl's dormitory now, gathering the things she would need to make her brew. Unfortunately, the dream potion would take twelve hours to brew. If she skipped dinner in the Great Hall, she would be finished in time for breakfast and a quick shower before classes. The next problem to solve was where to brew. Her dorm was out of the question. Lavender and Parvati were much too nosey and she couldn't risk Moaning Myrtle splashing toilet water in the solution and spoiling her delicate work. The Room of Requirement seemed the only logical choice to the bushy-haired witch, and she decided it was ideal for spending the night.

_Speak of the devil…_ Her resolution was interrupted by the giggling entrance of her roommates. She said her hello's and busied herself packing for her night out. A gasp dragged her attention to Lavender's bright eyes.

"Are you going somewhere tonight with the boys," she asked giddily. Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but was cut off as the blonde continued her boy-crazed monologue. "Will Ron be there? He's quite dreamy, you know. I can't believe I never saw it before. He was always this dorky kid, you know? But I don't know … something about seeing him in that Quidditch uniform … All rugged, muscular, and sweaty… it just drives me mad! He looks so grown up and manly now. Positively sexy. I can't believe you haven't tried jumping his bones yet."

"It's not like he's been attractive the whole time," Parvati interjected.

"Well, that's true…. And Hermione's not the most inviting figure for romantic gestures from boys."

"Lav!" The Indian girl jabbed her elbow into her best friend, eyes wide and head tilted towards their roommate.

However, Hermione wasn't listening. She often tuned out her companions rather than subject herself to hours of babbling schoolgirl fantasies. It drove her mad how boy-crazed her peers were. If she were honest with herself, though, she supposed she was more jealous than annoyed. It wasn't fair that it was perfectly acceptable for the other girls to gush over their crushes, but she couldn't say a word about whom she fancied. They would stare, shocked and twisted faces, sputtering out "Ewwws!" and "She's SO OLD," and "A teacher? Really, Hermione?" Well, that last one probably wouldn't surprise anyone. _Always the teacher's pet._ Still, she didn't think she could handle that. It would be awkward and humiliating, and her stomach churned uncomfortably at the thought. So, she buried herself in her books, masking her jealousy as if it were hate.

"I haven't activated its charm, yet," Lavender continued. "It's something new I ordered from the catalogue at Honey Dukes. These ones imprint your magical signature when you kiss them."

"How intimate," Parvati grinned saucily and chuckled, adoring the multi-layered romanticism contained within the workings of the chocolates.

"It gets better," Lavender excitedly grabbed at the other girl's arm. "I can kiss a few and wrap them up separately. They're extra strong, so just a few will work like an entire box for one person. I could have the entire Quidditch team absolutely in love with me all at once!"

"That's amazing. Oh! We'd better get to dinner. Seamus got a new sweater in the post and it hugs him _divinely_. Coming, Hermione?"

The brunette looked up confused. "Huh?"

"To dinner," Lavender stated bluntly. "Honestly, Hermione, it's like you're not even here sometimes."

"Oh, no… I've got some studying I need to do," she replied, shaking her head.

"Typical. Suit yourself then."

She watched the two girls speed out of the room, arms linked and heads tilted closely together in quiet fits of laughter. Her face soured at their retreating forms. She had never considered them friends, but she still felt a twinge of … something … when they treated her like that. She still remembered all the hurtful remarks and the terrible exclusion when she first came to Hogwarts six years ago. She liked to think they had formed a somewhat friendly rapport since then, but she'd never be a part of their clique.

She flung her satchel - supplies magically shrunk inside - over her shoulder and made to leave the room. She eyed the plain pink box that had slid to the floor and picked it up. If she would have to miss dinner, she could at least console herself with chocolates. Besides, she hadn't forgotten when Lavender would help herself to the treats Viktor had left her during fourth year. The blonde could survive just this once without sweets.

* * *

"I would like a bed, please," Hermione said aloud. It appeared instantly, covered with plush blue and white blankets. She felt silly for talking politely to a room and silently berated herself. "I need a way to wake up every ninety minutes." A red candle with rough black stripes lit itself as it rose from the floor next to the simmering cauldron. She had just finished adding the last ingredient to her concoction and pulled out the copy of _Paulo Poilo's Practical Potions for the Purposeful Pagan_ she borrowed from the library_._ Sitting on the bed, she opened the chocolates she stole from Lavender and bit into one. Her face contorted in disgust. _Tomato_? She quickly placed the remaining half back in the box. She decided to chance another one, hoping to no one in particular they were assorted flavors. She smiled pleasantly as coconut danced along her taste buds. She continued with the rest of the box in this fashion, replacing the ones she didn't like and happily devouring the others while she read over the instructions for her project. She frowned.

"In its purest form, the _Somnus Sardis_ potion (named for Sardis, its city of origin) is an unsettled gelatinous texture, usually orange, but can change color depending on …." It stopped there. Someone had torn off the bottom part of the page. She felt uneasy not knowing all the ins and outs of a potion, especially when she planned to use said potion on her Head of House. All she knew was that her potion currently fit the description of its purest form and that it could change color depending on…. something. She'd just have to watch the potion and stir it as per the instructions. Leaning back into the soft pillows, she flipped casually through the other chapters of the book. Half-eaten chocolates lay forgotten next to her as she drifted off to sleep.

She shot up from the bed with a start the first few times she heard the loud crack fill the room. She looked around anxiously until her eyes found the candle. She concluded that the evenly spaced, rough black stripes must have been some sort of mild gun powder, ignited by the flame as it burned away the ninety minute intervals. She stirred the potion three times counter clockwise and returned to sleep.

_She was in an ill-lit room, talking with her friends and enjoying the dying minutes of a fantastic party. In the back of her mind, she supposed it must have been a version of the Yule Ball. They laughed over some joke that didn't make sense and said their goodnights to each other. Hermione looked across the room and saw her professors standing by the door. She could not remember walking over to Minerva McGonagall, or snaking her arm around her teacher's slender waist. _

"_What took you so long," came the breathy tease._

"_Sorry," she replied, nuzzling her nose in the dark hair of the older woman before capturing her lips passionately._

"_Don't keep me waiting, Miss Granger."_

_She pushed the Scottish woman down onto the bed and climbed atop her. It was blurry and intense – all lips, and teeth, and thrusts and moans. The lighting in the bedroom turned to red and she…_

Startled awake again, pulling the damp fingers from beneath her pajama bottoms. Groaning, she stirred the potion for the final time as she noted all the wax from the candle had melted. She stared curiously at the cauldron. The contents had changed to candy apple red. She wondered what had caused it. _It must be normal. The book said the colors change._ She didn't think it was a dangerous change. Surely the book would have said something about it.

She carefully vialed the Somnus Sardis potion into two containers, banishing the rest and _scourgifying_ her cauldron. The pink box was turned upside down on the floor; no doubt she had knocked it off the bed in her sleep. She thought about her dream and smiled wryly, wishing it were real. What she wouldn't give to have one night of that. Without thinking, she picked up the box and placed it on the bed before walking out of the Room of Requirement to ready herself for a busy day of classes. She felt bothered for some reason as she walked to the prefects' bathroom. It was something about the chocolates. She couldn't quite place it. It was as if some of the pieces were missing. Her sleep deprived mind pushed her worries aside as she dove into the large bathtub.

* * *

Hit that button and let me know what you think! ;D


End file.
